A Crisp Autumn Morning
by Unsaid Goodbyes
Summary: So quickly, your life can change, in the most irreversible of ways. Such as a car crash. For author Isabella Swan, this is exactly what happened. OOC. AH/AU. ExB. Co-authored with KJS X-OVER.


A/N: **Lia:** Hey people. This is a random two-shot (maybe more, possibly, we don't know) that Karla and I wanted to write for the "In The Dark" contest, but we didn't finish in time. So instead, we turned our longer one-shot into two chapters. This first chapter will be written by me, and the next chapter will be written by Karla. Hope you enjoy…

**Karla: ***Looks at Lia with guilty eyes that say "I'm not worthy!"* Seriously though, this very responsible girl finished her part, while I'm lagging it….

Summary: So quickly, your life can change, in the most irreversible of ways. Such as a car crash. For author Isabella Swan, this is exactly what happened. OOC. AH/AU. ExB. Co-authored with KJS X-OVER.

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**Title: **A Crisp Autumn Morning

**Rating: **M

**Authors: **Breathless Tomb & KJS X-OVER

Chapter 1

**Bella's POV**

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Never in my life had I expected something so trivial—yet devastating—as a car crash could change everything about my life. Had I know the consequences of going out that morning, I might have changed my actions. Possibly. To be honest, I don't think I'd ever be certain again about anything. Life changed drastically, quickly, without even the slightest bit of warning.

Yet, I still couldn't find it in me to hate him.

***

It was a crisp autumn morning, and—if it hadn't been for my book signing later that day—it was a simply gorgeous day. I slid off my bed, walking over to the grand, white-framed window, overlooking the stunning turquoise sea. I pulled at the strings on my cotton sweat pants that I was wearing, a little nervous. Life was good. Not perfect, but good. Sighing, I swept from the room, nearly tripping over in the process.

Remembering the book signing today, my stomach started to clench. I lifted a single hand to rest on my belly, hearing the low gurgles ricochet around the quiet hallway. These empty corridors were my shame, echoing in silence, the ghosts of whoever had occupied here before me my only companions. I had the strangest feeling that I would throw up if I ate anything. So instead, I grabbed a granola bar and walked straight out the front door.

A sleek, black car was waiting for me outside my house. It was elegant, it was beautiful, and it was most _definitely_ not mine. I doubted I could afford a car so magnificent. A short, thin man was leaning against the back door, a blue cap on his head. He was dressed in a uniform of fine gold and navy blue. A chauffeur?

"Do I know you?" I asked him curiously. A casual smile eased its way onto his baby face. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd never met this man before in my life, and I was sure I'd never ordered a Rolls Royce. I valued subtly among other things. The driver laughed at the puzzled expression on my face.

"No ma'am," He chuckled, tipping his hat, "My name is Mike, and I work for _Barnes & Noble's_. You have a signing today, remember?" My stomach clenched at the mention of it, "The car is complimentary from the company. They wanted you to arrive safely."

"That's sweet of them" I smiled, a fondness in my heart, "They didn't have to go to such lengths though. I can drive. _Really_." I mock scowled, "Some people. Always trying to suck up." Mike held his stomach, booming out into laughter.

"Oh, the hardships of being a famous writer," He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, we _all_ pity you. Get in the car, whiner." I snickered, slipping into the car when he opened the door for me. I glared at him at the unnecessary act of chivalry, but he pointed to the hat resting atop his mop of dirty-blonde hair. _Oh right, chauffeur._

When the engine started, it was impossible not to notice how calming the gentle vibrations of the car were. The engine purred, sounding almost feline. But, no matter how relaxing the car ride would be, my hands were still shaking. Memories of screaming fans and security guards flashed before my eyes. I shuddered. Mike really had no idea how true his statement was about the hardships of being a famous writer.

I bit my lip as the car rolled down the street, drawing curious and disbelieving stares in its path. Though I did live in a relatively wealthy area, even _seeing_ a Rolls Royce was odd. I huddled into a small ball, trying to hide myself, not caring if the windows were tinted. I saw Mike's eyes flash to me in the mirror.

"Bella, are you wearing your seat belt?" He scolded, raising an eyebrow.

"No…but neither are you," I pointed out, giving my best disapproving glare. It was marred by the smirk on my face though. Mike sighed impatiently.

"You should put your seat belt on," He pressed. I frowned. _Double standards._

"But you don't!" He cut off my oncoming tirade of protests.

"All the same, I'd feel better if you could do your seat belt up."

I huffed, but complied, quickly doing up my seat belt. I felt ridiculous and overprotected, but Mike seemed appeased. He continued the drive, my town fading from sight, the trees becoming more abundant. Fewer and fewer cars suddenly doted the long highway, and my stomach began to flutter again. Something bad was going to happen.

My suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later.

There was a single honk of a horn before my entire world exploded around me. I was thrown around in my seat, my head cracking against the window, blinded by my flying hair. There was a horrifying, gut-churning screech of metal crushing against metal. Everything was happening so fast, I couldn't grasp onto reality. There was pain. Flashing, burning, ripping pain. Glass shattered, slicing through my skin, and I was vaguely aware of Mike's screaming voice.

But, as quick as it had started, it ended just as swiftly. I was panting, my eyes blurred with tears. There was a stabbing pain in my lower stomach, tight and sharp. I dragged myself out of the wreckage of the car, trying to shout for help, but my throat was raw and useless. A rusty smell hit my nose, salty in its scent. _Blood._

The last thing I was aware of before I drifted off into the comfort of my mind was a tall figure emerging from the forest. But before I could get a clear image of whoever it was, I was gone, floating away on a river of unshed tears, for myself, for the unfortunate Mike—whose body was limp and twisted in his seat—and for my family, for, I was nearly certain I would never wake up.

***

I was wrong.

I did awake. Had it been hours, days, months? I couldn't be sure. My body felt light, yet stretched. There was none of the pain that I had anticipated. My eyes blinked open, trying to become accustom to the dim light. I was faintly aware of my tired arms, hoisted up above my head. I struggled, but they appeared to be tied. I gradually became more aware of my surroundings, noticing that I was lying on a large, fluffy bed. I fought some more against the ties on my wrists, until I as interrupted by a smooth, velvet voice.

"Don't try to escape," it said—obviously male—, "It won't help. I've been practicing my knots for a long time, waiting for this." Fearfully, I glanced around the room I was in, searching for the source of the voice. It didn't take me long to find him.

He was gorgeous, the type of guy you expected to see in a magazine or a movie, but not in real life. Piercing green eyes were staring down at me, something akin to love in his jadeite orbs. He was godlike in his appearance, sculpted to perfection. His disarray of bronze hair seemed to glow different colours in the light; coppers, golds, reds, and browns. But somehow…he seemed…familiar, though I was certain I'd never officially met him before.

"Good evening Bella," He smiled, "It's nice to see that you're awake. How do you feel?" I couldn't speak for a few minutes, dazzled by him. Who was this man and how did he know my name? _You're a famous author Bella_, I reminded myself, _obviously he found you in the accident and took you back to help you._ While my mind wanted to believe this, the logical side of me knew better. Had he simply stumbled across me, he would've taken me to a hospital, and even if his house had been the only place available, he wouldn't have _tied_ me to his _bed_.

"W-who are you?" I stuttered, my face paler than usual, "Why am I here? Where are we?" The man chuckled, seemingly amused by my anxiety. Surprising me, he walked forward, sitting beside me on the bed. His hand rested on my upper thigh and with a jolt I realized the clothing— or therefore lack of—I was wearing.

"Who are you?" I whimpered weakly, utterly self-loathing over my lack of courage. I couldn't deny how positively petrified I was. _I'm going to die_, I thought, _he's going to hold me hostage, rape me, then kill me and mutilate my body._ Images and memories of countless horror movies echoed through my head. The shaking began, my body quivering as his hand began to rub my thigh. He mock pouted.

"You don't remember me?" He asked, seeming disappointed, "You _should_, considering we went to school together. But, oh well." He grinned cheekily, "I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

The moment he said his name, I remembered. _Of course_. Why hadn't I noticed it before? His eyes—such a unique shade of jade—could not be mistaken for anyone else. I could clearly recognize him now, remembering him walking through the halls of Forks High. Though I had never spoken to him, Edward Cullen had been infamous. The cold, gorgeous, unattainable musician. Every girl's dream. Even mine. I'd always thought him kind and sweet and absolutely _normal_ behind his cool exterior.

I could see how mistaken I had been now.

"Why am I tied to your bed?" I asked, my voice cracking halfway through. Edward's hand rose, brushing against the thin, red panties I was dressed in. Lust fogged his eyes, which locked on my rising and falling chest. My face twisted up in disgust, but, there was an underlying sense of flattery in me. It was awfully strange. _He kidnapped you Bella_, my mind screamed at me, _don't you start liking him! No matter how gorgeous he is!_

"You were hurt," He said simply, "I took you home to let you heal."

"I want to go home," I whimpered, tears of fear prickling at my eyes. He didn't seem mentally sane. Edward's face darkened at my words, his hand halting in its ministrations. I froze, fearing the worst. I could see images of blades and blood in my mind's eye. A sob escaped my lips.

"You _are_ home," He growled, squeezing my thigh, "Your home is here. With me." Confusion overwhelmed me.

"…No," I choked out, "My home is in Los Angeles. I don't even know you. We were in different grades. We never even spoke to each other." Edward's expression got worse and worse as I continued to talk, making me regret my words. He got up, towering over me, his eyes furious and hurt. He almost seemed _sad_, though I couldn't fathom _why_ he would be.

"We're meant to be together," He whispered, so low I could barely hear him, "Just like in your books. We're soulmates. And soulmates should never be parted." And with that, he walked quickly out of the room, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked secure after a second, as the door locked from the outside. I turned my head, dry sobbing into the pillow. Everything was over. Nothing would ever be the same.

***

But, as scared as I was, it was obvious even to me how tenderly Edward took care of me. He brought me food and juice every day—everything I asked for, within reason of course. He _was_ kind, in his own twisted, sick way. He never hurt me, never so much as made a single bruise on my skin. But, I wasn't allowed to leave. During the rare occasions where he had to go out, I was tied up to his bed, the knots so well done that I couldn't even more my hands.

He wasn't a _bad_ person. He may not have been exactly how I imagined him to be back in high school, but he wouldn't hurt me. His presence began to calm me instead of scare me. But, he generally seemed to always pass my personal boundaries, never doing more than touching, but all the same, his touch was strangely shocking to me. My body—so unused to such feelings—rejected it at first, not wanting to believe that I was feeling anything more than pity for Edward.

But…it didn't take long for that to change as well.

"You awake?" came Edward's voice, as I rose from a light sleep. My arms were pulled above my head to the point of actually hurting me. I groaned as my eyelids slid open, a throbbing pain in my numb hands. I couldn't feel my fingers, and goose-bumps erupted all over my skin as the door opened and a gust of cool air floated over me.

"Mhmm…" I mumbled, closing my eyes tight again. The floorboards creaked as he got closer to the bed, which bent in with his added weight. Two lukewarm hands came up to untie my wrists. The searing pain was immediate, shocks shooting up my numb fingers. Edward took one of my wrists and started massaging it, relieving some of the discomfort.

"How are you feeling?" He whispered, his warm breath fanning across my face. My whole body was cold, but at least now I was wearing some form of clothing, albeit it was still a thin nightgown. It was rather unnerving, knowing that Edward had changed my clothes whilst I was sleeping. I grimaced internally.

"Cold," I said flatly, "Still tired. And a bit hungry." I cracked my eyes open to see Edward's glorious face inches above mine, smiling lovingly down at me. I noticed—that plopped down also on my bed—was a plastic bag, filled with food which was protruding from the top. Edward reached into the bag and pulled out a juice box. Once he'd opened it, he tilted my head a bit, sticking the straw between my lips.

I drank greedily, my throat dry and parched. The grape juice was sweet and thick like syrup. I closed my eyes, but kept them a millimetre open, watching Edward's expression. He seemed content, his eyes light and happy. This didn't relieve my suspicions though.

I drank until I was done, smacking my lips together and sighing. Edward put the box back in the bag and pulled out a small carton of strawberries. My mouth watered at the sight, since I hadn't eaten since yesterday night, and it was currently almost lunchtime. My stomach growled and Edward chuckled.

"I picked these up especially for you," He said, with a twinkle in his eye, "Since I know you love them so much." I froze, watching in mute horror slash confusion at this proclamation. _How did he know I love strawberries? More, importantly, why was he telling me that he knew?_

"How did you know that?" I asked carefully, my eyes tightening. Edward popped the box open, pulling out a fresh strawberry. I noticed how every single one of them had been washed and had their stems cut off.

"I know many things about you," He said cryptically, "Now, open up." My lips parted and he pushed a strawberry into my mouth. Though I'd long swallowed the fruit, his fingers lingered on my lips longer than necessary. It didn't take long until I'd eaten my way through the entire carton. My lips must've been a bright red from the juices. Edward's eyes were still a brilliant green, dancing around my face. Everything seemed to entrance him, which was only _slightly_ creepy.

"Edward…" I started, unsure of what to say, "…Why?"

He raised a single eyebrow, "Why what?"

"Why me?" I took a deep breath, "Why did you…take me?" It was a question that had been jumping around in my mind for days now, no answer logical enough to appease me. I was worried though. No matter how kind or gentle Edward had been to me…he wasn't…_stable_ and that scared me. How long would it be until he snapped? And what would happen…when he did? Edward started massaging my second hand.

"Silly Bella," He teased, "I've been in love with you for years. Ever since you first moved to Forks all those years ago in high school." I think my jaw may have dropped. _Since I was a freshman? Edward Cullen_ had loved me? The possibility seemed impossible. Ridiculous. Completely idiotic.

Yet…it was true.

"Then why didn't you just ask me out?" I asked, with genuine curiosity. Edward frowned, his eyes filled with misery. The deepest kind of melancholy that made my heart sing for him. If I wasn't frozen from the neck down, I would've sat straight up and wrapped my arms around his neck. I wanted to turn his lips up, and bring a smile to his beautiful face.

In that span—of possibly a second—in time, I couldn't find it in me to detest him for ever taking me from my home. He was so lonely, with no one to love or to love him. The gates that I'd spent so long setting up around my heart were crashing down, emotions spilling out. His next words were whispered, feathery and quiet.

"You would've said no."

I didn't even try to deny it.

"Yes."

But, even knowing that, I raised my good, free hand, cupping his cheek. Edward leaned into my touch, closing his eyes. He placed my other hand on his cheek as well, making me sit upright. I made small circles on his cheek with my hand. His skin was so smooth, yet hard. Like satin covering steel. I couldn't understand, couldn't get enough. I moved my right hand to the back of his head, scratching his hair. A deep purr rumbled through his chest, egging me on. _So beautiful._

"I love you so much," He breathed, his eyes still shut tight, "With all my heart. My love. My soulmate. My Bella."

Quite surprisingly, I didn't mind his words. This was the time that I'd never seen, so crucial in a way that didn't make sense. Quite unexpectedly, something in me shifted. This was the scene I'd never imagined my future having. Quite strangely, I felt much lighter. This was the question I'd never gotten around to answering. Quite undeniably, I learned a different way of breathing. This was the side of life I'd never seen before.

Quite unpredictably, I smiled. A smile so full of joy and affection that I didn't understand it myself. I simply stayed there, holding the man who'd changed my life in the most irreversible of ways. I pushed his face into my neck, hugging him close to me He was too much to handle all at once.

If I'd been paying any attention, I might've noticed the dark smile that spread across his face.

Had I been paying any attention, I might've realized just how much I was missing from this.

But I didn't.

***

Time passed. I'd begun to disregard the days and times, and instead focussed on life as it was now. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd fallen asleep to the sound of Edward's gentle humming, more musical than any sound I'd ever heard before in my life. He'd told me everything—about why he'd fallen in love with me and why he'd decided to take me. And strangely enough…his reasoning made sense to me. Any _sane_ woman would've long gone into a catatonic state, yet here I was, alive and well.

What did that say about me?

He no longer tied me up when he went out, giving me that little bit of trust, though I was still locked in the same room. The dark room. With the pine floorboards and windowless walls. With the giant cherry wood door, with the metal frame around it, the spiralling swirls forming a rather complex pattern. And I—as usual—would sit on the large, fluffy bed, with the silver silk sheets. It was a second nature to me now, as easy as breathing in and breathing out. I would sit, and wait for Edward to return.

Such as now.

Patiently, I sat. I concentrated on evening out my breathing, trying to steady my heart flow. Life got incredibly dull when Edward left on these rare occasions. Sure, there were books for me to read, and notepads for me to fill with my illegible scribbling, but nothing was piquing my interest at the moment. So instead, I chose to remain in my personal bubble, lost in my mind. Calmly, I waited, eyes trained on the door.

But, as the hours rolled by, and there was no sight of Edward, I began to feel a clenching feeling in my lower abdomen. Abandoning my post, I rushed to the bathroom, relieving my bladder. Sighing, I rinsed my hands, taking a quick look in the oval, pebble-encircled mirror. Ever alight and peaceful brown eyes stared back at me, curious and filled with wonder. They reminded me so much of my father's own eyes. There was a deep pang in my chest. _I miss you…_

I froze.

The name bubbled on the end of my tongue, but it wouldn't come out. I could see my father's face in my mind's eyes, smiling happily down at me. Memories flashed through me of my limited time in Forks with him, before school had ended. Every muscle in my body tightened, and my blood ran cold through me. _No. No. No._ What was going on? What was wrong with me? How could—what was—why couldn't I…?

_Why couldn't I remember my father's name?_

My vision blurred before my eyes as I struggled to remember his name. Something with a 'C'. I was sure of that. But nothing slipped off my tongue. And my last name! Even at this, I drew a blank. _Birds. Birds._ _Something to do with birds._ Robin? Heron? Sparrow? Nothing clicked. Nothing made sense. Nothing I pictured seemed to remind me of anything. Releasing a furious shriek, I threw my hand at the mirror as hard as I could, shattering it into a thousand glittering pieces.

My mother? Her name. It was barely there. Implanted into my memory, yet faded. I could only see the outline of the letters, as they were all distorted and fogged. Her image was in my mind, but even _it_ was beginning to slip away. Was there laugh lines? What colour was her hair? Her eyes, they were gone. What shape had they been? Had they pierced me as Edward's eyes had? Had they crinkled in her smiles? All I could remember of her was vague shape of her face, and slowly, _slowly_, that was slithering away.

I howled and snarled, the sounds ripping at my throat. My hands lashed out, banging my fingers against the door and walls. Black and blue fingers grasped meaninglessly at the air, trying to find something. _Anything_. My vision was tinted red, my mind beyond all concepts of rationality. In the fragments of the mirror on the ground that cut and tore at my feet as I stomped around, I could see the crystal tears that ran down my face.

The girl was nothing like she'd been before. Her furious face was twisted up into a loathing scowl that mauled her naturally delicate features. Her hands grasped her hair, pulling roughly, tugging, trying to inflict pain upon herself. She needed to remember. _I_ needed to remember. I was trying…to push my old memories forward, to remember the past.

_But it was all gone._

_Replaced._

Everything of who I used to be was nearly gone now. Smothered by Edward. His face, his voice, his eyes, his hair, his laughter, his expressions. He invaded my everything, pushing everything else away. His existence flowed like poison through my veins. I fell to the ground, keening sobs tearing from me. The room suddenly seemed smaller, like the walls were about to close in on me. My head felt dizzy, too overcome by the disappearing world that used to captivate me more than anything else.

Dimly, in the back of my mind, I heard a door creaking open. But it was faint, and my mind was elsewhere. The bathroom door was yanked open, Edward standing there in all his glory. My face contorted, the scarlet vision back again. The tear stains on my cheeks seemingly dried. I threw myself at him, punching and kicking every inch I could reach.

"It's your fault!" I screeched, "It's your fault I can't remember them! You took me! You stole me away from them!" Edward, bewildered by my sudden ferocity, grabbed both my arms in his iron grasp. "Let me go!" I screamed again, "It's because of you! I hate you! I can't even…I can't even…" A painful sob escaped my lips as I continued to struggle against his hold on me.

"Stop this now Bella," He said lowly, his voice threatening, daring me to continue on acting the way I was. Completely ignoring him, I fought against his grip again, kicking my legs out this way and that. Maniacal laughter emerged from my throat, my eyes half-crazed.

"Stop?" I cackled, "Stop what? _You're_ the one who should stop. Stop this madness. Put everything back to the way it was." I stilled a little, cocking my head to the side, "But nothing can change now. You made this so. Damaged the almost-perfection of whatever it was that I nearly had. You killed the memories. You strangled them, made them _burn_." I started lashing out again, throwing my head around, hitting the side of the door. A throbbing pain slunk through me.

Edward pulled me forward, kicking the open door closed with his foot. My back was rammed against the door, making a sickening crunch. I howled in pain, my hands on either side of my head. Edward leaned forward, pushing his entire body against me. Livid eyes stared back into mine, bleeding black. His hot breath was fanning across my face in pants, and he looked like he was physically holding himself back from pounding me into the door again.

"You will stop _now,_ Isabella!" He hissed, "I don't know what you're talking about, but you will _not_ speak to me that way! You will never say those words again. Those ugly, filthy, vile words." Even in my unreasonable state of mind, I could understand that he was referring to the '_I hate you'_. I barked out a laugh, my throat raw from the screams.

"I can talk to you however I _damn well_ want to," I snarled, "You kidnapper. You _thief_ of my _life!_ I hate y—" He crushed his lips to mine, effectively wiping my mind of all thoughts.

Our bodies were fierce, on fire. I pushed and bucked, as he devoured my mouth. I couldn't get enough of him, couldn't seem to feed myself enough on the _essence_ of him. His tongue probed my mouth, fighting for dominance over mine, which he—of course—won in the end. My hands escaped his grasp, wrapping around his neck to clench into his hair. I pulled with all my might, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I wanted to _hurt_ him.

He picked me up and— instinctively—I wrapped my legs around his waist. My hands were clawing at the collar of his black button-up shirt. Fabric tore from his body as he set me down on the bed. Two sets of lust-filled eyes glowed in the relative darkness of the room. I moved my lips back up, kissing him fiercely. Edward slipped his hands under my nightgown, his palms splaying across my stomach. His shirt was in tatters now, barely hanging off his shoulders. My eager hands roamed up and down his chest.

His hand cupped my breast, pinching my nipple tightly. I moaned, bucking my hips up into his. Edward hovered above me, holding his weight up with a single elbow. He grinded into my heated center; slow, torturous movements. He kneaded the flesh of my breast, moving it as if it were clay in his all-too fervent palms. I gasped, holding my hands up as Edward pushed my nightgown up and over my head. I was nearly nude now, apart from the thin silk panties that hid my moist heat from view.

Edward's face broke out in a dark grin, his mouth latching onto my right nipple. He kept his bleeding eyes open, watching my expressions as my mouth opened and closed without a single sound. His name came from my lips like a prayer, my voice wispy and needy. His other hand tended to my left breast, massaging it with a dedicated passion. His mouth released my nipple with a _pop_.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered as he trailed lower down me, "I never want to let you go." He licked my naval, eliciting a high-pitched moan from me. The act—so childish and cute—was extremely erotic in a way that I'd never quite expected before. His hand cupped my sex unexpectedly, pushing slowly upwards. I keened, arching my back.

"Do you like that?" Edward grinned, pulling my panties to the side. He licked my clit and I shrieked, reaching behind me to grip the headboard. I felt the fabric slowly behind pulled down my legs, Edward leaving wet kisses in his wake. There was a pressure in my stomach, a coil threatening to burst forth and consume me. I was thoughtless, _mindless_, completely _oblivious_ to everything except the God feasting from my slit.

"Edward!" I shrieked as he gently bit down on my clit. My fingers flexed, the coil tightening until it exploded. Edward raised himself back up, my juices glistening on his lips, as well as a devious smirk. With a growl, I grabbed him by the back of his head, smashing my lips against his. Our teeth clashed together, but neither of us minded.

I could taste myself on his tongue. It wasn't…_bad_…but it wasn't good either. It was spicy, and I couldn't see why he would get any pleasure from it. My shaking hands grasped his belt buckle, pulling sharply and tugging until I ripped it from him, throwing it to the other side of the room. His pants were off next, and then his boxers. It wasn't long before we were both naked, rolling in the sheets together.

His mouth was hot on mine, as I squirmed beneath him. The intense, psychedelic rolling fervour was too much to behold, yet it still wasn't enough. Edward's eyes met mine, and lust fogged them. Wild, dangerous lust, without inhibitions. I wrapped my legs around his waist again, nodding my head at his silent plea. Our lips fused together, and—just as I thought he'd forgotten his request—Edward pushed into me, breaking my barrier.

It hurt. The pain was excruciating. There was no doubt about it. But there was pleasure as well. Overwhelming. Controlling. Dominating. It blocked out the pain, and only intensified as Edward began to thrust his hips. Faster, harder, to the point where I thought that I would break. I moaned and whimpered, _screamed_ his name, while he groaned mine out. He kept hitting _that_ spot over and over, searing pleasure shooting through my veins.

And then, with one final thrust of his hips into me, I shattered. My mind was scorched in a flash of white hot bliss. I shrieked out Edward's name, pulling myself closer to him. Edward came seconds after me, snarling and roaring my name. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting from exertion. His body was heavy on mine, but it felt nice too. Comforting.

"How did that feel, my dear Isabella?" Edward purred, his fingers trailing back down to my pussy. Groggily, I blinked, utterly exhausted. I couldn't handle another round. Not just yet. My body was still incredibly sore. Edward chuckled at my incredulous and worried eyes, before resuming stroking up and down my inner thighs.

"Relax my sweet love," His voice rumbled, "You need your rest. I'm only going to touch, alright? I want to make you feel good." I smiled, my eyes closing, as I sank deeper and deeper into my sex-induced slumber. My last thoughts—before I was gone into the night—were terrifying. They were horrendous. They were shocking, and had I not been nearly comatose, I would've bolted right up.

_I think I love this man…_

--

A/N: **Lia:** Thanks for reading the first chapter :). Be kind to me. This is my first lemon—and it wasn't even that great. I'm much better at foreplay for some reason…I think that was a little bit 'too much information'. _Anyways_, this was actually taken from Steven King's _**Misery**_, if you didn't already realize it. The next chapter should come soon, and Karla will be writing that.

**Karla:** I hope I'll be able to post this soon…if real life ever releases its grip a little… Thank you Lia, for the great first chapter! I have no clue how I'll measure up!

--Breathless Tomb & KJS X-OVER--


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